Egad, it’s been quite a journey! We are already at week six with one week remaining. This week is all about sharing our final drafts based on critiques from our assigned editor (go #TeamCarly aka #TeamAweseome aka #TeamFirefly). I received some mega helpful feedback from the great Carly Hayward on how to refine this short story even more and getting those loose screws tightened. Including the finalized version, I took Carly’s comments and worked through my story in five rounds.

Here’s my shiny final draft for NOWHERE:

NOWHERE

Stars freckled Night’s sky. At least this imprisonment forced me out of the hustle of human cities that competed against those twinkling marks on his face. I couldn’t tell Night how much I enjoyed this view. How it brought peace in this solitude. He’d never let it go, or he’d blush, igniting the sky with more stars than he’d space for. Tempting.

Surprisingly, this was my first time relegated to Nowhere. A special kind of hell for us non-humans in a detached realm. The Orchestrator dropped me—literally—from the sky into this wasteland: sand, sky, and a decrepit fishing boat, all sun-bleached and splintered, nothing more. On the first day, I walked hours from the boat, but every time I looked over my shoulder, there it was. There was no end in Nowhere, only a beginning. A stagnant place frozen in time.

Getting tossed into this void wasn’t my plan. But it was worth it. I brought two humans to the Other Space, the crossroads between realms where fantastical and bizarre beings came together. There were two rules in OS: keep your petty fights in your own realm and no humans. Their feeble, non-magically inclined minds weren’t capable of comprehending magic, or some shit reason like that. But why couldn’t they get a chance to see true whimsy? Why did the Orchestrator get to decide that? So I brought them over. Change was impossible if rules were never broken. Besides, most visitors to OS were pretty chill. But the conductors were there. They were the right hands to the Orchestrator, the one being who sees all realms at all times and the one who doles out punishments to individuals like me. Narcs.

Anyway, when the Orchestrator transported me here, they’d said, “Trickster, freedom comes like the ocean.”

I had no idea what kind of bullshit poetry that was, but this morning I heard the first sound in this shithole that wasn’t my voice or the clack of my deck of cards in three hundred days. Bubbling water.

I pulled out my beholder cards, which the Orchestrator was kind enough not to confiscate, and shuffled. The cardboard corners snapped together in a soothing alternating weave. “Where to go once I sail out of here, it’s not like I’ve a realm of my own. Thoughts, Night?” I knew he wouldn’t answer, if he could even hear me.

The blank cards clicked with each bridging. Olympus didn’t much like me, nor did Haevan’s Worth. How was I to know they didn’t appreciate my talents for shifting? It was all in good fun, I swear.

I let the bridge fall. “Azedamon. That’s where I’ll go. I haven’t been a dragon in ages.”

I drew the top card as the realm of dragons and wyverns bled onto its face. Which type of dragon to shift into? My finger rested on the next card as a smile worked across my face. One made of lightning and thunder, I’d energy to expel. “Soon, I’ll be free.”

Afterthoughts

These last several weeks have flown by and I’ve definitely met some awesome writers and editors along the way. Lot’s of great suggestions and encouragements from them that have helped me shape my hotmess-express of a first draft into what it is now. I managed to keep my 500 words goal which I’m super stoked about. I’m a novel writer, I like my words (and my commas….), so keeping it at 500 words was a personal challenge I wanted to hold myself to. Next week we’ll be wrapping up on this mini-project, we’ll reflect on the process, maybe share some ideas on where to go from here, and discuss more on those giveaways several people are offering.

Stick around for closing thoughts, keeping following this adventure a little longer, and thanks for reading.

Melissa Bergum is a Wisconsinite born and bred, pass the cheese and Brandy Old Fashioned Sweets, but hold the beer. Among the many things she is, she’s a wife, a mommer to a toddler who wants to grow big enough to touch the sky, and a case manager for children and adolescents with severe and persistent mental health needs. She enjoys spending time with family and friends, watching anime, playing games (video, board, tabletop), and, of course, writing. You can find a short story of hers and an excerpt featured on Ghoul Intentions.

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